Croods to the Modern Day
by adman000
Summary: The modern equivalents of Guy and Eep bring the Croods into 2018 East-Delmarva


"I question you, Seth," my adoptive sister, Eve, said to me in her native East-Delmarva accent, "If we really are going through with this, then why are we using the Broadway font face?"

"The retro look from 2000," I replied in my native Brooklyn accent.

"Good enough for me."

"Ready?" I said, turning the final two switch circuits.

"When you are."

I powered up the starter circuits, sucking _all_ of the power within a mile-wide area.

"Maybe it _wasn't_ such a good idea to connect it to the mains?"

" _Your_ idea, Seth."

At that moment, a prehistoric version of our family was thrown onto the field where we were working.

"Dad…?"

The prehistoric Greg looked at Eve, rather confused, "Eep…?"

"I'm calling Greg," I said, pulling my Alcatel OneTouch Fierce XL.

He answered after a minute.

"Dad, Greg? Get over here!"

"What for?"

"No time to explain! Bring Olga, Sandy, and Gram! Don't tell Theodore, though."

"On my way!"

The family that was thrown into the present was The Croods, and they were a parallel to ours. Well, Eve's, anyways. I wasn't formerly adopted, so I was still _technically_ Seth DeMeats. Not Seth Colbert.

 _Wow._

A few minutes later, they showed up in the station wagon.

And were amazed.

"What the hell?" Olga said.

"What kind of sex are you two _having_ in there?" Gram asked in her usual obnoxious New Jersey accent.

"We're not having sex, Gramma."

"Then what _do_ you do in there?"

"Be megageniuses," I replied.

"Seth," Greg said, "Eve, I was worried that this would happen."

"Look at you," Olga said to her prehistoric counterpart, "You the stay-at-home mom?"

"Kind of. I'm Ugga Crood."

"Well, I'm Olga Colbert."

"You guys have yous, but I don't have one!" the prehistoric Theodore said.

"Oh, yes you do," I replied as the prehistoric version of me came over, "Hello."

He looked more modern than the others, which was a little shocking.

"I'm Guy."

"Seth. Eve's adoptive brother."

"I guess you _could_ say that I'm Eep's adoptive brother."

We both looked over to see the two Eves and two Grams getting along.

"This ol' geiser's alright!"

"That's great Ma."

"So, you're me?"

"Not exactly."

"Anyway," Guy said, "Has Eve tried to crush you, yet?"

"I've worried about myself on a few occasions around her, but nothing that would leave scars."

"Belt had to bring me back to life a few times when I first met Eep and her family."

"Belt?"

"He's my pet sloth. He keeps my pants up, cooks, and the works."

"Oh! That, and I guess there's _two_ girls my age now that are, unsurprisingly, stronger than I am."

"Why do you sound different from the rest of your family?"

"I'm originally from Brooklyn, a place north of here by a few hundred miles, while they're from here, East-Delmarva, except for Gram. I think she's from New Jersey. Also why I dress differently. I left Brooklyn and ran away when my family wanted to move to Alaska for whatever reason. I never figured out if they found out if I was gone, but it's been at least ten years, so I don't think they're bothered by it. Technically, I'm not a part of _any_ family if they got someone to _legally_ boot me, which would be less than surprising, but Mr Colbert never had me adopted, so I... don't know if I exist anymore. I haven't had any problems."

"The Croods were nice enough, eventually, to take me in. My family died in a tarpit."

"That's sad. Mine probably froze to death," I thought about it for a minute, before Olga came up behind us.

"You two?"

"Mrs Colbert, I mean Olga?"

"Seth, we've went over this before. You can call us Mom, Dad, and Gramma."

"It feels weird."

"Well Mom's got your back there. Anyway," she turned to Guy, "You'll be staying with us."

"Thanks."

Everyone got in the car and Olga drove back to the house.

"Cool dress," Eve said to Eep, blinking to get something out of her eye.

"Thanks. It was a tiger."

I looked at Guy's clothes, a pair of pants and shoes, obviously straight from an animal.

"You make 'em yourself?"

"I had to."

"I have a pair of houseshoes at home that look _exactly_ like your shoes."

"Oh, wow."

The ride back to our suburban house was filled with conversation.

"Okay," I said as Olga pulled into the driveway, "You're closer to a modern human than the others are, I think."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm not sure how my hypothesis holds, but I'm fairly certain that I'm right."

Going inside, they didn't know what to think of modern luxuries.

"Home sweet home," Olga said, turning to Ugga, "Make yourself at home. Can I get you anything?"

"I'm fine."

"Eep," Grug said, "Be careful! We don't know what these people may do!"

"They're fine, Dad!"

Theodore would be home any minute from school. By the way, Eve and I graduated early.

The Croods were quick to pick up on some things, like couches and chairs, but nothing beyond that. It would come in time.

"Thunk, no!" Ugga said, trying to keep her dim-witted son from destroying everything.

"Guy, I want to show you something," I said, taking him to the kitchen table and opening a three-inch three-ring binder, "This is the journal that Eve and I kept while we built that apparatus that brought you here."

He squinted, almost as if he was having trouble seeing for a few minutes.

"Are you okay?"

"It's just blurry."

Going by appearance, I had enough in common with Guy that he might have myopia, so I took off my Steve Jobs glasses, "Take these."

"Wow," he said, reading the first page with the glasses.

"Let me see them back. I'll get you another pair that I haven't worn, yet."

I got my glasses back, went into the living room, and got my clean glasses out of the armrest in the middle of the couch, then turned to Eve and Eep, "Eve," I said, "Where are your backup glasses?"

"My desk in the attic."

"I want to test a hypothesis," I said, taking an exact pair back to Guy, then going upstairs to get Eve's glasses.

 _If this turns out like I think it will, my suspicions will be confirmed, proving my hypothesis that Guy is Cro-Magnon and the Croods are Neanderthals correctly._

I ran back down with them and gave them to Eep.

"What are you doing?" Eve asked me, more than a little perturbed.

"Just wait," I said as Eep put Eve's rectangular, red-orange framed glasses on, "Is your vision clearer."

Eep was wide-eyed for a minute and just stuttered.

"Well?"

"Yeah."

"My hypothesis was right! Guy is Cro-Magnon, an early modern human, while the rest of the Crood family is Neanderthals!"

"Meaning?" Eve asked me, lost.

"Meaning that we're either A: a reincarnation of their family after seven millenniums, or B, the scientific plausible one: we're direct descendants of them."

"Why do you say that?"

"I've noticed the subtlty in mannerisms, physical properties, and thought patterns and, accounting for difference in era, of course, found between an 85 to 95 percent matchup."

"And that means?"

"We didn't miss our target, we achieved it! Using deoxyribonucleic acid"

"Can you just say 'DNA'?"

"DNA, whatever, my point is that they're the era-different genetic matchup of us from a time when the human population was hovering at around five million people!"

"Oh my God," Eve replied, struck at what I had said.


End file.
